


What Johnny Knows

by RittaPokie



Category: Marvel
Genre: Bonding, Really Graphic Violence, rape mention, sexual abuse mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-27 02:54:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6266650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RittaPokie/pseuds/RittaPokie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This goes along with TFW but I can't put it in because I'm not using a third shoulder overlook and it's from Johnny. It's not necessary but in case you wonder why Johnny (canon in this story) knows so much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Johnny Knows

A man in a lab coat snatches the mask off and gasps in horror and there's just barely enough time before the merc's finger pushes the trigger down for Johnny to kick the guy out of the way (into a wall and probably giving him a concussion but we can't have it all). Deadpool faces the corner of the room and shields his head with his arms. Johnny isn't entirely sure what that's for.

"Look, we're here for different reasons so I'll stay out of your way unless I actually see something happening, like now." Johnny says. Deadpool doesn't respond, just clenches his fists. "You okay.?

He opens one hand, "The mask, please."

"We got your file because the director said you'd probably be here, there's a photo in it so secret identity is kinda out." Johnny laughs, picks up the mask.

"It's an old one." Deadpool says.

"Here." Johnny holds it out, trying to tilt his head to just–

"Don't fucking look. I'll put a .45 between your eyes." Deadpool growls and snatches the mask away.

Johnny gets just the barest flash of scars and marred flesh before the mask is back in place.

 

Because fate apparently wants a bullet in Johnny's skull, someone hacks the merc's arm clean off later in the day and he pushes his sleeve up to put it back in place. Which is equally cool and terrifying, in Johnny's opinion.

"Wow." He says. "So I'm guessing your arm isn't the only thing like that."

"Why don't you mind your own business." Deadpool is especially prickly, Johnny notes. Nothing in his file about this, probably some sort of fucked up lab experience. And they are in some sort of fucked up lab. Makes sense.

"It's fine. Yeesh, you should've seen Mr F when he first got his abilities. All limp and floppy like he was melting." He shivers. "Gives me the creeps thinking about it. And the thing? Whew. And then there's people who screamed like they were in a chainsaw testing room as dummies when I flamed up the first time."

"Stop it." Deadpool says, but there is a bit of a lighter edge to it.

"You're among fellow science experiments, man." He says. "Mine was probably way less painful, but, yeah. No judgment."

"Sure."

"Hey can I have your phone number? Sis won't let me send her memes anymore."

\---

Johnny wonders why he keeps winding up in team ups where Deadpool just. Appears. For some reason. It's like fate. And he gets to see the bad bits of Wade fucking Wilson.

Like now, with one of his katanas wedged deep within some older lady who looks like your average suburban mom if not for what she's been doing in a warehouse basement. Sex trafficking ring. A bad one. A really, really disgusting, makes-you-throw-up-in-your-mouth-when-you-get-the-mission one. Run by your neighbor who bakes cookies. They were supposed to bring her in for questioning. Oh well.

"No one." The blade makes a slick eery sort of sound when he pulls it out. "Ever." Down with a squelch, so hard it slices through a rib and into another. Deadpool tugs it and frees it relatively easily before swishing it down again, this time in her face. Johnny wonders why the hell he's still looking. "Wants it."

Hm. Well. That has some implications. "Uh." Johnny stammers. Another squishy sound (oh god they're only getting mushier) "You're having a moment here and I hate to interrupt, but–"

Johnny doesn't need to see the merc's face to know the look he casts is deadly and full of bite and hatred. Johnny backs off. Deadpool's somewhere else right now.

 

Later, he's watching the merc calmly clean the blood off his blade and Johnny can't get the sounds of someone getting hacked to bits post-mortem out of his head. Or the "no one ever wants it". That might actually be louder than the noises. "You okay?" He asks when Deadpool sheaths the weapon.

The merc startles like someone pricked him unexpectedly and nods. "Yeah, fine. Whyever do you ask?"

Johnny shrugs, decides to take his word for it and move on. "Your name sounds like a battle cry. Like Leroy Jenkins. Y'know? Except it's Wade Fucking Wilson."

"Never thought of it that way."

"Really? And you totally go running off into battle without a care in the world about your own safety." Johnny says, "And you think it helps but this is a team effort. If you want to help, help. This–this killing people gig, not good for you."

"What do you know about what's good for me?"

"Man, what I saw in there can't be good for anyone." Johnny shakes his head. "That was brutal. And I'm not saying she didn't deserve it, I mean...she did. You don't. Like, it's–well it is your job–you're not– you don't have to keep doing this kind of thing. You're better than that."

"I'm not." He says, "I'm really not."

"Bad guys don't send me videos of them crying because I send fifty kitten pictures in a row." Johnny says. "Bad guys don't send me chicken noodle soup recipes because I have the sniffles."


End file.
